The Truth Which Kills
by Nicole
Summary: The president tells Sam of his MS... (includes language and drinking... is NOT a comedy, though.)


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********This follows my"sand and water" fic.You don't really need to know it, just know that Sam's dad died earlier and that the president comforted him. (non slash, of course.)Read, enjoy, and feed me.I'm hungry.***********

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**The Truth that Kills**

"I'll be here in my office the rest of the night," Toby called after Sam and Leo. 

Sam turned his head slightly."Toby...?" Toby never said anything like that before a routine trip to the President."It's probably just about the budget." 

"Go."

The younger man nodded and continued to follow Leo.Seconds later, they entered the oval office, the president standing with his back to them, staring out the window.

"Mr. President," Leo started.

Jed blinked and turned around.

"Good evening, sir." Sam greeted.

The president smiled slightly, but it was a humorless grin- one that Sam noticed immediately.Then the uncomfortable feeling settled in.Jed walked around his desk and sat in one of the chair circling the seal.He motioned for the two other men to do the same. 

Sam took a seat across from the president, Leo sat to Bartlet's right, also facing the young speechwriter.The uncomfortable feeling started to turn to uneasiness."Sir...?Um, I have good news-" 

"Sam, I need to tell you something," Jed interrupted softly.Too softly.Sam caught the president's eyes then turned to Leo.

He returned his gaze to Bartlet."Okay," Sam replied quietly, sensing there was more to this meeting than discussing the "good" smaller surplus. 

Jed nodded while holding the younger man's gaze."Before I ran for president, before I ran for govoner-- I was diagnosed as having a...." He cleared his throat, sighing deeply."A relapsing/remitting case of MS." 

Sam choked, swallowing hard. "M--- Multiple Schorlis?"

"Yes." 

"Are you...?I mean, are you....?"Sam's eyes flashed with sudden fear."God-are you telling me now because....?"

"Sam, he's not dieing, for god's sake."Leo broke in gently.

Sam let out a breath, and ran a hand through his ruffled hair.Now the fear was slowly turning to anger.And betrayal."Why didn't you tell us before?" He blurted out without thinking. 

The president blinked- though not surprised."Sam-" 

Sam shook his head, interrupting. "No, sir... I had no right-" 

"Sam," Jed broke in."You have every right to ask that question.However, I can't answer it.I mean- I don't know the answer to it." 

The younger man felt his vision blur- but it wasn't because of tears.He stood suddenly."Can I,I mean may I.... stand...?" He asked foolishly, already trading off his weight between his feet.

Jed nodded."Yeah," he answered quietly. 

"Sam, you want a drink?"Leo offered, rising and walking to the small cart a few feet away.

He nodded."Please."Leo handed him a shot glass and Sam downed it in one gulp, turning his head slightly away from the two elder men.He then poured him self another- and another.Finally, after about six more, he turned to face Jed and Leo.

Leo shot Jed a glance, and the two realized that Sam had- consciously or not- gotten himself drunk in the Oval Office.

"Okay," the speechwriter started, putting his glass down harshly on the cart, the noise breaking the still silence of the room."We need a...a lawyer."He laughed ruthlessly. "Oh wait- uh, I'm a lawyer.Hey, but we need um- Tribbey-" 

"Tribbey's gone," Leo reminded him."Listen, Sam, I think we better leave-" 

"No!" Sam shouted, his voice slurred. "No.This is *my* president.I have the right to criticize-- no, that's the wrong word.I didn't wanna say-But, of course I could *criticize* him-" 

"Sam," Leo tried again, worried greatly of what more would escape Sam's lips."Let's go.Now."He held out his hand and tried to grab the younger man by his elbow.Sam jerked away, and walked up to Jed.

Standing in front of the sitting president, he made a sort of whimpering sound.Then, in a quieter, more controlled voice, he asked."Why didn't you tell us, *president* Bartlet? Why the hell would you keep something like this to your fucking self?" 

Leo's eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed Sam's shoulder."Son, we need to leave.In fact, 

you're leaving now, or I'll call Toby to wrestle you out of here."And he wasn't kidding.

"Leo, I'm not your son!" Sam shouted, stepping back into the couch again, still standing.His voice broke as he turned to Bartlet. "I thought I-I was yours... you....you bas-" 

"Samuel!" Leo shouted, interrupting him. 

Finally, Sam seemed to sober up."Oh, god.I- I'm nobody's son."Tears formed in his eyes."I- I can't believe I said that-- those things to you, " His voice still slurred a bit."S-s-sir, I-" 

Finally, the president stood."Sam, forget it.You needed to get it out of your system." 

Sam sat, again breaking protocol.He felt numb.No, he didn't feel anything.Not anymore."I just- I'm so tired of being betrayed- you know?"Now his voice sounded so much younger- too younger to Leo and Jed.Jed swallowed, feeling part of Sam's pain, mixed with his own humiliation and anger.

Jed sat on the small futon in front of Sam's couch.He touched the younger man's knee gently.Sam stiffened under the touch."I'm sorry you feel that way, Sam.Really, I- I am so sorry I made you feel that way." 

Sam shook his head."No, sir, please don't do that-" 

"Do what?" 

"Apologize to me.After all I-" His hands flew to his mouth, as if suddenly remembering what words he had spoken."God- I didn't mean any of that-" 

"Yes, you did.It's alright, though." Jed said quietly, almost a whisper. "It's alright."

"Remember when my Dad died?" Sam asked suddenly. 

Leo turned and left the room, realizing that this was a very private moment between the two other men.

Bartlett nodded."Yes." 

"You, you held me.You-" His voice stopped, then he seemed to catch his breath and breathe again."You helped me through it.If it wasn't for you, sir, I don't know what I would have done that night."He looked up at the president, who was staring intently at him, also."I'll get you through this," Sam said forcefully."*We* will. I promise you that, Mr. President." 

"Thank you," Bartlett replied softly."You-" he stopped, then started."You better get a ride home.I don't want you driving." 

Sam lowered his eyes."Yes, sir.I apologize for what I said," he added quietly."I had absolutely no right.You're the President, sir."He added with a small grin."And we're gonna keep it that way." 

As the faint smell of whiskey still tinged the stale office air, the two men smiled at each

other.Sam then rose and left the room.Soon after, Bartlett stood, pushed the futon away, and stared intently at the bird on the plush carpet.He chuckled wryly, then returned to stand at the window. 


End file.
